


Grace in the Wilderness

by Edge_of_Clairvoyance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Comfort/Angst, Family, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt, Hurt John Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, POV Outsider, Pre-Series, Teen Dean Winchester, Teenchesters, Weechesters, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 21:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13960380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edge_of_Clairvoyance/pseuds/Edge_of_Clairvoyance
Summary: Angel, the ER desk clerk, was getting ready for another boring, uneventful night at Holborn Memorial.And then the blond boy burst through the front doors."Please, I need help, my dad's hurt!"





	Grace in the Wilderness

**Author's Note:**

> Betad by the lovely [CrazedPanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazedPanda) \- thank you! Again!
> 
> The title comes from Jeremiah 31:2

It wasn't until the rush died down, that Angel reached into her bag and realized she forgot to bring the folder with the essays she was planning on reading for Professor Henry's class. For a few minutes she just stared at the bag as if the folder would magically appear. It didn't. It was already midnight, too late for her to ask her roommate or anyone else to pick it up for her, and there was no way Dr. Li was going to let her go and get it, not with her being the only desk clerk in the ER for the night.

Angel sighed and put her bag back under the desk in the little cabinet she used as a locker. She hadn't thought to bring a book or a magazine or whatever, counting on the essays to keep her busy between patients. There weren't many of them, not on Wednesday night in Holborn Memorial, anyway. The rush that kept her from noticing the missing folder was short-lived; all the patients were either admitted or treated and discharged. Only three were still in the ER with tests being done. She might have to degrade herself by resorting to the year-old women magazines in the waiting room.

In the meantime, she started trying to put the notes and patient charts in some sort of order, cursing under her breath. That Jerry was a piece of work; not only did he ask her to relieve him early today, he also left half the papers from his shift in a mess and just bailed as soon as she showed. She was going to give him hell for that when he came in tomorrow, see if she didn't.

And then the blond boy burst through the front doors.

"Please, I need help, my dad's hurt," he was breathing hard, green eyes wide open and darting around, searching for someone to answer his call of distress. Angel was stunned for a moment, but luckily the medical staff was far better trained for this.

"Where's your dad?" Dr. Li, the ER resident, was moving toward him, signaling at the nurses, who were already rolling a gurney, to follow her.

"In the car," the boy turned to run out the doors. Angel rushed to exam room four, where an intern was supposed to be seeing some patient with a suspicious boil. The boy's tone indicated this was much more serious than a damned skin affliction – who comes to the ER in the middle of the night for a _boil_ , anyway?! – and she guessed Dr. Li could use another pair of hands.

The intern actually looked relieved to ditch his patient when Angel curtly stated there was an emergency outside, and strode right out, Angel at his heels.

She followed him out to the parking lot; she wasn't really supposed to, but it wasn't like she had anything important to do, and let's face it – she was awfully curious. Dr. Li and the nurses were gathered near a big black car that shone under the strong lights. The intern joined in as they pulled a man out of the driver's seat and onto the gurney.

"We got him? Right, roll him in," Dr. Li led the way, one hand on the gurney near the man's head. They whisked him past Angel, the wheels rattling on the oil-stained tarmac.

Angel turned her head to see the blond boy following, holding the hand of a younger kid – most probably a little brother. She should see them in and get a chart started, but as she took another look at the car, she saw the door had been left open.

She hurried to it and leaned inside; as she thought, the key was still in the ignition. She took it out and just before she slammed the door shut, she saw the blood stains all over the front bench. The bigger stain was at the driver's side, which was reasonable; but she saw another, considerable stain on the passenger's side, and some smears in between. What did that mean? Was one of the kids hurt, too? Or-

She shook her head. No way. That boy wasn't old enough to drive. She closed the door, locked it and jogged back inside.

She found the boys in front of the door that led to the trauma and examination rooms. They had probably been left there with the door slamming in their faces when their father was wheeled in. She didn't blame the medical staff; saving the father's life was far more urgent and important than minding his kids. But would it have killed any of the nurses to just spare a minute to calm them down? The younger one was trembling, clinging to his older brother, undoubtedly crying silently into his coat. The blond, older boy had his arms around him, He wasn't crying, but he was still breathing hard, staring at the door as if he could will it to vanish and let him through.

Angel came to their side. Neither of them seemed to notice her. She hardly hesitated; she'd been working in the ER for a while now, and heard a wide assortment of little speeches the doctors and nurses used for family members in various situations.

"They are doing everything they can to help him," the older boy looked up at her, a bit distractedly, but at least he was hearing her. "They're the best doctors and nurses in the region, and they have top of the line medical equipment. Whatever can be done for your dad, they'll do it. You can take my word for it. He's in good hands."

The older boy stared at her for a minute longer – he had a handsome, slightly freckled face – and then took a breath and nodded. "We'll just… I guess we need to wait?"

Relieved he was sounding calm enough, Angel smiled. "You can actually help me get a chart started for your dad. And maybe we can call someone? Your mom? Somebody else?"

"I called our uncle, he'll be here in a few hours. You probably need this?" He fumbled in his pockets, somehow managing not to disengage the younger boy from him, and produced what must have been his father's wallet. He went over the contents and took out a Blue Shield card.

Angel was a bit surprised that the boy might think about holding on to the wallet, let alone even consider handling aspects like medical insurance. And he was what? Fourteen, tops? As she reached for the card, she remembered she still had the car keys, and handed them to him.

"The key was in the ignition. It's a nice town, low crime rates and all, but you never know. I locked it, so you don't have to worry about it," he let out a little breath, the corner of his mouth twitching, then looked at her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," now that her hand was free, she offered it. "I'm Angel."

His grip was surprisingly firm. "I'm Dean. This is Sammy." The younger boy finally moved his face away from the safety of his brother's coat and she gazed down at a pair of beautiful – if still wet – hazel eyes and a cute little face. She smiled at him.

"Hi, Sammy."

"Hi," it was a mere whisper, but Dean patted his back as if praising the child for his courage.

She got a chart started for Mr. Jeffrey W. Rackham, as his card identified him, and filled the initial forms for him with whatever details Dean could give her, which turned out not to be much. Not because he wasn't aware – hell, he even knew his dad's blood type! How many _adults_ even knew their _own_? – but because there was not much to tell. The Rackhams had no steady address, no steady phone number, and Mr. Rackham seemed to have no steady job, other than "selling stuff", as Dean put it.

They also had no relatives save for the uncle Dean had called. Angel felt a little prick of pain in her chest for the two motherless boys, and made a solemn decision to call her mom in the morning just to hear her voice and tell her she loved her.

Once the forms were filled to the best of her ability, Angel showed the boys to the waiting room, where Dean sat on the vinyl-upholstered bench and let Sammy lean against him.

Angel went into the nurses' lounge and rummaged through the cupboards. She knew that Harriet kept a can of Swiss Miss in there somewhere; it wouldn't hurt that cheap cow to share a little bit of it. She found the can and saw it was almost empty, only about a spoonful left. Angel stared at it for a minute, then shrugged and shook it into a disposable cup. The can she put back into the cupboard. Let Harriet find out the hard way it was time to get a new one. Preferably when she was itching for some hot cocoa and had only five minutes left on her break.

Dean looked up as she held the cup out to him. "There wasn't enough powder left for two cups," she said apologetically. "But you can share. It sure beats the liquid crap from the vending machines."

He looked at the cup, and back at her. Then a smile broke on his face – it didn't erase the lines of worry that marred his features, but it was adorable nonetheless. "Thank you so much." He took the cup and turned to his brother. "Want some hot cocoa, little dude? There you go." He waited for Sammy to sit up straight, and gingerly let him sip the hot beverage.

Angel returned to her desk to watch the boys from there. Dean was still holding the cup for Sammy, even though the kid was nine or ten, by no means a toddler, but he didn't seem to mind his big brother coddling him; although he put his hands over Dean's, he didn't try to handle the cup on his own. It occurred to Angel that it was going on one o'clock, and Sammy must have been dead tired by now.

She turned when Dr. Li suddenly popped up behind her, coming from the other side of the reception area. The short, sharp-faced resident didn't talk at first as she observed the two boys in the waiting room. Angel knew better than to disturb her; she just held out the chart she'd filled and looked intently at Dr. Li while she flipped through the forms.

"Any family or friends coming to take care of the kids?" She asked.

"They called an uncle, said he'd be here in a few hours," Angel replied.

Dr. Li still squinted at the boys. "How've they been? Crying? Making a fuss?"

"Actually no. They're very well-behaved."

Dr. Li tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. "Okay, I'll talk to them, then. Names?"

"The older one's Dean, the younger's Sammy," the resident gestured for Angel to come with her – probably believing that the desk clerk had already bonded with the boys and could be used as a calming factor.

Dean raised his head as the doctor approached him, and got to his feet, gently nudging Sammy aside so he could stand up. Angel saw concern and fear welling up in his young face.

"Dean, is it? I'm Dr. Li. We have your father stabilized and we believe he isn't in any immediate danger, but he isn't conscious at the moment," God bless that woman; the resident might seem like a scrawny bird-faced bitch, but you could trust her to know what a patient or a relative needed to hear at their most stressful moment. Angel could see the relief practically washing over Dean.

"He's gonna be okay?"

Dr. Li nodded. "Most probably. It'd take more time and care, though, he's lost a lot of blood and he's still at risk of developing an infection. We will keep him here for a few hours until we finish the initial treatment he's being given, and then admit him to the ward. Can you tell me what happened to him?"

"He was hunting in the hills south of town and was injured. Some wild animal attacked him. He still managed to drive back to the motel we're staying in."

Dr. Li nodded again, slower. "Who stitched him up?"

"I did. But the gashes were too deep, the stitches wouldn't hold."

"We were able to clamp them up. Was he still well enough to drive himself here?"

"Yeah, he was going really slow, and there was no traffic, and I kinda grabbed the wheel for him a coupla times," Angel was watching Dean closely; his voice was steady and he was holding Dr. Li's gaze, but she had a feeling he was… not lying, exactly, but rather trailing on the edge of truth.

"You have an uncle coming in for you, then?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alright. You'll be comfortable here for now?"

"Yes, ma'am, we're fine. Thank you."

Dr. Li gave him one last nod and turned back to the reception area. Angel threw a little smile at the boys and hurried to catch up with her. The resident leaned over the counter, scribbling in Mr. Rackham's chart, and spoke with a low voice without looking at Angel. "I want you to call social services and get them down here."

Angel felt her stomach knotting. "What for?"

"To get those kids taken care of."

"But… their uncle is on his way."

"Really," Dr. Li glanced up. "Don't tell me you're buying that."

Angel was taken aback. "Why not?"

"Were you paying attention at all, or weren't you?" Dr. Li was now looking at her with that disturbing sharpness of hers. "Single father, no relatives, no steady home, no steady job. Going hunting in the hills, leaving two young boys alone in a motel in a strange town. Getting injured on the hunt, doesn't call an ambulance or drive straight here, but goes home and lets a fourteen-year-old boy _stitch him up_ , for crying out loud. He didn't do a bad job, either. And let me tell you, that guy wasn't conscious when we pulled him out of the car, and he didn't pass out just then, not with the amount of blood he'd lost. Now you tell _me_ if any of this sounds right to you."

"I don't-" but Dr. Li had some very good points. What kind of a father trains his son to stitch wounds and drive and cover for whatever he does when he leaves him alone to watch his little brother in an unfamiliar town?

Dr. Li tilted her head a bit and her expression softened some. "Look at them, Angel," she said. "Second-hand clothes, the little one's sneakers so worn they're about to fall apart, and the older one's coat is probably army surplus. It's a school night, they should be asleep in a nice warm bed, not sitting in an ER waiting room. They can get better care. Much better."

Angel opened her mouth several times before managing to say, "but their uncle?"

Dr. Li shook her head. "I don't even know if there _is_ an uncle. My guess is that they're trying to stall until the father comes to, so we wouldn't call CPS."

Angel looked over at the boys in the waiting room. Sammy was lying on the bench with his head on his brother's lap, while Dean stared into the air with one hand distractedly stroking Sammy's head. They looked so young, so _alone_ , that Angel's eyes tingled. They _should_ be receiving better care; they _deserved_ better care. All she had to do was pick up the phone and make a call, and everything would be set to right.

But she couldn't do it. She didn't even know why.

_He's gonna be okay?_

"Can we… can we just wait a bit?" Her voice was trembling slightly. "See if the uncle does exist? If we call social services at this time of night, they're gonna take a few hours anyway, and they'll end up showing the same time they'd show if we call in the morning. And I can keep an eye on them in the meantime. Just… please, Dr. Li?"

The resident crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Angel, then sighed. "Why you want to play along with this obviously inadequate parent is beyond me, but fine. I'll only allow it because I don't think there's going to be any uncle showing in a couple of hours, or ever, and you'll end up calling social services in the morning anyway. So suit yourself. And those kids had better not get away from you until then, get it?"

"Yes, Dr. Li. Thank you."

The doctor just gave a curt nod and disappeared into the hallway. Angel actually let out a breath when the resident was out of her sight, and glanced at the Rackham boys; they were still in the same position on the ugly waiting room bench, unaware of how their fate was being decided behind the reception desk. Angel turned her eyes to the large clock on the wall in front of her, and then to the front doors. Nothing seemed to be moving beyond the glass. She set down on her chair to wait.

As the hands crawled over the face of the clock, Angel was getting more and more nervous. She couldn't concentrate on anything she tried to do, and every time a patient or a staff member walked by she nearly jumped out of her skin. Even though she tried to deny it, a bit of Dr. Li's doubts managed to rub off on her. It made her watch Dean and Sammy much more carefully, tensing whenever they seemed to be moving.

Which was not often. As she imagined, Sammy was beat; besides one trip to the restroom, he spent most of the time sleeping on the bench with his head on Dean's lap. Despite the waiting room having a comfortable temperature, Angel saw Dean shrugging off his coat and draping it over his brother. She got him a blanket from the supply room, and was rewarded with another adorable grin. She smiled back and returned to her post, from where she continued watching the boys as the hours stretched on.

At five minutes past five a.m. she gave up. The thin boys in their hand-me-down clothes were still all alone in the waiting room, their father still unconscious, and no uncle was coming. Dr. Li was right, they needed to be taken care of, and she needed to start doing her job. She reached for the phone when the front doors swung open.

The burly man in the tattered trucker's cap that walked in stopped just inside the doors and looked around. Angel straightened up in her seat, about to ask him if he needed any help, when she heard Dean's voice, "Uncle Bobby."

The man turned and strode to the bench, where Dean eased Sammy off him so he could get up. As soon as he was on his feet he disappeared into Uncle Bobby's arms as the man wrapped them around him.

"You okay, boy?" Angel could hear his voice, husky and rugged, but undoubtedly warm and full of worry. "Sam's okay?"

"We're fine," Uncle Bobby held him for a moment longer and then knelt near the bench, on which Sammy was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He saw the man, and his arms reached immediately to slide around his neck.

"Hey, Sammy," even though his face was hidden, Angel had no doubt he was smiling. "Sleep well?"

"He slept like a little bear," Dean commented with a light smirk.

"Did not," Sammy blinked up at him, obviously still not fully awake.

"Did too, squirt. Your fat head nearly cut the blood circulation in my leg," Dean was making a show of limping and rubbing his thigh.

" _You_ have a fat head," but Sammy was smiling, and so was Dean.

Angel realized she was getting a glimpse of what the boys were like when they weren't tired and worried and feeling alone, and she pushed the phone on her desk away from her.

Uncle Bobby got to his feet and came over to the desk. "Morning," he said, and between his old cap and his short, gray streaked beard, his eyes shone clever and attentive.

"Good morning, sir. Are you Mr. Rackham's brother?"

Uncle Bobby chuckled. "Hell no, just a distant cousin of that idijt. But "uncle" is easier on the kids. I guess you've been watching them all night? Thanks for your trouble."

"No trouble at all, they've been very good."

"Yeah, they are. Very good," his gaze drifted momentarily to the boys, then back to her. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing fine," Angel startled as Dr. Li again appeared out of thin air behind her. "His vitals are good, we'll be ready shortly to try and wake him up and transfer him to the ward."

Uncle Bobby nodded. "Thank you so much, doctor."

Dr. Li glanced at the waiting room. "Will you be taking care of the boys?"

"Yeah, I'll stay with them here until we can get their daddy out of the hospital, then I'll take all of them home with me."

"Where would home be, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Got a salvage yard there. Any kind of car part you need, just give me a call."

Dr. Li's face remained blank. "I'll go see Mr. Rackham now."

Uncle Bobby went back to the waiting room and sat next to the boys. He bent his head so Dean could talk quietly into his ear, probably to recount whatever happened. The man nodded all the while, sometimes threading in a sentence or two, but it was too low for Angel to hear.

It wasn't like she was trying to eavesdrop, anyway. She didn't really care about whatever hunting accident brought Mr. Rackham to Holborn Memorial. All she cared about was that his sons would have someone to look after them other than CPS, and they did. That was enough for her.

It wasn't long before Dr. Li opened the doors leading to the examination rooms and motioned the Rackhams in. Dean practically leaped ahead and darted through the doors and into the corridor beyond. Uncle Bobby followed with Sammy, giving Angel a nod before the doors closed behind him.

So, this was it. Angel moved around the reception area, tidying up whatever little there was to be tidied. She was on auto pilot, not really looking at what she was doing. She didn't need to. It was forms and notes, all that the patients left behind in the ER, all that Mr. Rackham would leave behind.

She looked up when the doors to the inner corridor opened and Dean came out and headed straight for Angel. He stood on the other side of the desk and looked up at her with those lively green eyes.

"My dad's awake, they say he'll be just fine," he said.

Angel smiled at him. "That's great, I'm glad to hear it."

"They're going to take him up to be admitted to a ward, so I guess we won't be down here anymore. I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. I really… thanks."

Angel's eyes blinked hard and her lips trembled a bit, and then she forced herself to get a grip. "It was nothing special."

He was looking at her solemnly, and somehow, at that moment, he looked far older than fourteen. "It was. So thank you."

She nodded, somewhat speechless. "Say goodbye to Sammy for me."

"I will," his smile returned, and just like that, he was a kid again. He turned to the doors, and then turned back. "Oh, if you happen to run into my dad around the hospital while we're still here, would you mind not telling him I left the keys in the car? He'd tear me a new one if he found out."

Angel wasn't certain if he was being serious or not, but managed to let out a "yeah, sure" which seemed to satisfy Dean. He dropped her a wink, and then he was gone.

Her eyes drifted to the waiting room and the bench the Rackham boys spent the better part of the night on. The blanket she got for Dean was still there, and Angel went over and picked it up, folded it and was about to walk away when something caught her eye.

Angel crouched down and reached under the bench, grabbed at the thing she saw and pulled her hand back. She stood up, opened her fist and looked at it. There was a tiny charm resting in her palm, its silvery surface shining under the fluorescent lights. It was shaped like a pentagram with a halo of fire around it.

She stared at the charm, and then at the doors behind which the Rackhams had gone. Then she closed her fist on the little piece of metal and returned to her post.

The papers were arranged on her desk in neat piles. Forms and notes of patients, forgotten as soon as they were out the ER doors. That was what they left behind.

But Mr. Rackham would leave behind more than that. Much more.

Angel sat down in her chair. Not too long now to wait for Jerry to come in and get his head torn off for leaving a mess after his shift. Not that she cared about it that much, not anymore.

She just sat there and rocked her palm gently and watched how the little silvery charm caught the light, like a tiny star nestled safe and warm in her hand.

_It was nothing special._

_It was. So thank you._

You're welcome, Dean, Angel thought. You're so very welcome.

**Author's Note:**

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